


Explosion

by Long_Furby6



Category: Naruto
Genre: Akatsuki - Freeform, Flashbacks, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, but who really cares?, kinda cringe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25326616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Long_Furby6/pseuds/Long_Furby6
Summary: Deidara’s obsession with bombs started at a very young age.
Kudos: 4





	Explosion

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so I understand that this is kinda cringe but do I care?
> 
> I love Deidara dude seriously needs more hype he was hella powerful
> 
> Sasuke couldn’t kill him he needed to blow his own ass up to give him a victory. I’m still kinda Salty about it.

“Come on! Dei! Keep up!”

Deidara quickened his pace, hoping to catch up with his friend.

The both of them went out to see the fireworks, which were part of a festival currently taking place. Deidara had never seen fireworks before, but he heard that they were beautiful, almost magical. He was excited, and so was his friend.

Deidara passed his companion, vaulting over a branch and rushing on ahead.

He stopped in a clearing, catching his breath while falling to the ground.

“Hey! No fair!” His friend groaned, panting heavily from all the running the two had been doing.

“You’re just mad because you lost. So shut up, yeah?”

“So rude!” 

Deidara laughed and crossed his legs, looking to the night sky as his friend sat down beside him. It was a clear night, only a few stars speckling the sky like paint splatters. He always loved the night, and often snuck out to watch the stars on his own. He found it calming despite his loud personality.

He couldn’t wait to see the beautiful sky explode with colour as all the descriptions and photos had depicted.

“What do you think they’ll be like?” He breathed out, uncrossing his legs and laying with his hands behind his head. The grass was cold and soothing against his body, sore from running.

His friend scoffed and laid down as well. “I don’t get what your so excited about, they’re just fireworks. Nothin’ special.”

“Well I’ve never seen them before!” Deidara retorted, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “And I think it’ll be cool!” 

He just shrugged and smiled, looking back up.

“Whatever. You’re the one who dragged me out here anyway, so it better make you happy.”

“It sure will!”

Deidara’s snickers quickly stopped when he heard the hiss of splitting wind as a projectile was fired. The first firework.

“The first one!” Deidara yelled, shooting up before being dragged back down.

“Stay down, stupid! I can’t see past you!”

It took all of his strength to not jump up and scream.

The sky was suddenly lit up with colour, covering the horizon in shapes and booms. Deidara was quiet, mesmerized by the lights.

Suddenly it was only him and the fireworks. Everything else seemed to fade away, as if it never existed or was simply irrelevant. It felt as if a missing piece of himself was found, like the world around him suddenly made sense.

“This...is true art.”

“Huh?”

* * *

Deidara watched as his hands spewed out murky clay, forming them into shapes and small figurines. Each intricate detail was placed purposefully, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. Which he never did.

After the sculpture was finished, Deidara stared at it for a moment, fiddling and tweaking some parts here and there.

Once completely satisfied with the finishing touches, he tossed it up in the air and watched it explode with a grin.

“Whoah...those freaky hand mouths can make clay?! Cool! Why did it explode?”

Deidara jumped and whipped around to face one of his teammates. 

It was his first year of shinobi training. He was, unfortunately, split up from his childhood best friend when the teams were chosen. Sad, yes, but they managed. It isn’t as if they were never going to see each other again because they were in different cells.

Now, he was stuck with one idiot and an even bigger idiot.

The girl who snuck up behind him took a few steps closer and waved. Deidara tilted his head and gave a half-hearted wave back. 

He didn’t want to talk to her or anyone else. He wanted to be alone to perfect his masterpieces.

“So, like, is that your jutsu or something? Exploding clay?”

She grabbed one of his hands to examine the mouth, but he quickly pulled it back to his chest, clutching it with the other.

“ Detonation clay, actually.” He sighed and turned away from her, sitting back down on the railing.

“Go bother someone else, yeah? I’m busy”

“Really? Doesn’t seem like you’re doing anything important.”

“Art **IS** important!”

She giggled and ruffled his hair, much to his dismay. He spent an hour trying to get it into his new shinobi style that morning. Hey, if you’re gonna make art, you gotta look like art yourself. 

“Don’t touch my hair, yeah?” 

She shrugged, moving to speak with him face-to-face.

“Can I  please  see your hands?!” 

His teammate once again reached for his hands, though she was clumsily batted away by a rather pissed off bomber.

“What? No! What kind of psychopath are you! Hey! Back off, yeah?!”

He stood up and patted down his shirt, staring at her with anger in his eyes.

“You come here, insult my art, ruin my hair, violate my personal space like its your right, and then have the  _ audacity _ to touch my hands?!” He half-yelled. The girl was trying desperately to hold back her laughter, making his blood boil.

He sighed and dramatically turned around, marching off and leaving her to whatever girls do when they’re alone, Deidara had no idea.

What he wanted to do was blow her up right there and then. A bit cruel, yes, he supposed that he was overreacting a little bit, but she was the one who tried touching him knowing  damn well  he didn’t like to be touched by people he wasn’t comfortable with, so that’s on her.

The fact that if he did the same thing to her, he’d be getting a one-way trip straight to a lecture with their team leader annoyed him more than anything.

So, he took his anger out like every rational, sane, common-sense-having adolescent would do.

He blew up an abandoned building.

* * *

“What the hell is with those hands anyway?” Deidara’s teammate scoffed, walking along with him and the rest of their team.

“What about them?” Deidara knew where this was going. It happened every time they were in a room together.

His teammate would tell him he was freaky for having mouths on his hands, call him an attention-seeking idiot when he used his explosions, and tell him that no one cares if he started excitedly talking about art.

It hurt at first, but now, Deidara was just used to it. He wasn’t ashamed of his hands, in fact, he was proud of them, and the jealous ramblings of an idiot who had no appreciation for art meant nothing to him.

It was all just a ploy to get under his skin anyway. He was starting to get the impression that his two teammates were having a contest or something, whoever gets the biggest explosion out of him wins. 

He wasn’t sure, but that would make a lot of sense.

“You never answered my question anyway, why do they have mouths on them?”

“Why do yours not?”

“No, were you born with them or something?”

“It’s not your business, yeah?”

They were interrupted when a shadow loomed over them, Deidara looked up to see their teacher hovering above, looking at them with hidden rage.

“Keep walking, boys”

“Right!” They said in unison, continuing on.

Deidara pulled ahead while his other teammate laughed at the boy.

He longed for someone who would listen. They didn’t have to be into art or the same type of art, they just had to respect him and his boundaries. He wanted his best friend back, but he was long gone, fighting a losing battle on the other side of the nation.

Deidara sighted, lifting a hand to cover his eye.

Maybe he’ll find someone like that soon enough.

* * *

The explosion sounded across the town, ringing in the ears of all those listening and shaking the very ground. It’s maker, hiding in the shadows of an alleyway, lifting his hands into his detonation sign with a sadistic grin.

He had been working with Iwagakure’s explosion corps for a while now, assisting in terrorist bombings across the nation.

It was dirty work, he was aware, enough to make him a rogue ninja if anyone of worth found out. 

Though, he didn’t think it mattered. The sheer joy of watching the carnage unfold outweighed all of the negatives. Like most of his life choices, it was a spur of the moment decision that drove him to accept the offer, but damn, did he not regret it in the slightest.

The feeling of ecstasy when he pulled the proverbial trigger soothed any ache he could’ve possibly felt from losing his childhood friend in battle.

Knowing that he was in control, that he could overthrow the ‘kage in a heartbeat, that he chose when people lived or died, gave him a power trip that sent him on this wild ride.

As far as his knowledge went, he was the strongest member of the group. He was drunk on that thought, it didn’t matter to him anymore if he found someone who would listen, they feared him. That’s what filled the void his friend had left.

He didn’t need friends anymore.

His art could keep him company.

* * *

It had been a while since Deidara had joined the Akatsuki.

Honestly, it was nice to have a group of like minded people. Like minded in the sense that they didn’t stick to closely to the rules. No that they followed any, being s-class criminals and all.

Although he would never admit it, Deidara was particularly fond of his partner, Sasori of the Red Sand.

He didn’t like Sasori, that much was evident. They often argued whenever they had the chance.

But, all of the arguments they had were about art.

Deidara had finally found someone willing to listen. Someone who had the same appreciation for art as he did, even if they had different views, Deidara found it fun to debate with his partner.

Sasori believed that art was eternal, while Deidara believed that art was in the moment.

That didn’t stop Deidara from having the utmost respect for Sasori and his art form. 

He could finally talk about it without being told to shut up, he was met with equal passion and enthusiasm, if you could call Sasori enthusiastic, that is. They would insult and jab at each other, but in the end, there was respect.

Deidara quickly grew attached to Sasori as a teammate.

He mourned when the puppet master died.

* * *

Deidara stared down the former Konoha shinobi in front of him, preparing himself for what was to come.

He never expected his final moments to come so early. He didn’t exactly want to end it here, but what other choice did he have?

He would be taking an Uchiha with him to the grave, and that was all the motivation he needed.

The kamikaze would surely wipe out most of the forest, leaving a scar on the ground for centuries to come. 

To be honest, this is exactly how Deidara wanted to go.

Maybe he’d meet his childhood friend or Sasori again in the afterlife. Although they’d probably call him an idiot for blowing himself up.

He was always called an early death type, and he was finally understanding why.

Somehow, every single moment of his life led up to this. And he was content with that.

He was art.

He was an explosion.


End file.
